The Janus Project
by bubblesodatea
Summary: In a scientific government facility, a certain group of people meet the twisted, corrupt, and horribly misinterpreted versions of themselves. All of their personalities have been compressed and exaggerated to the point of flat, unpredictable chaos; will the Hetalians survive the horror that is character flanderization? [Hetalians meet their flat-personalitied alternatives.]
1. Introduction

**A tl;dr of the summary:**

 **Hetalians meet the worst Fandom versions of themselves.**

* * *

A woman in a white trousersuit stood next to a door way, looking over the final details on a wooden clipboard. Her headset crackled, and a voice came from the other end.

"Dr. Jackson, the first subject is at the door. Should I let them in?"

"Yes, go ahead."

A few seconds past before she heard footsteps, and then enthusiastic knocking on the door. She opened it to reveal an ambered eyed man with tan skin and light brown hair. Feliciano Vargas gave her a sweet smile and walked past her into the room without invitation.

"Hello, Miss—"

" _Doctor_ Sophia Jackson, if you don't mind," she said, her voice stern but not harsh. "I hope you understand why you're here today, Mr. Vargas?"

"Hm...Well, it's definitely got to to do with science, right? Sorry, I got the email you sent me, but I didn't get to finish reading it," Feliciano said, shrugging. "It sure was a long email!"

"I see. Well then, I'll simply explain what's going as soon as I get you situated in the Meeting Room."

Dr. Jackson led the young man toward another door, this one solid steel and equipped with heavy duty locks.

"Excuse me for a second."

She scanned her ID card and punched in a passcode. The door unlocked with a soft click and a whooshing noise as the doors slid open automatically to reveal a small room, around twice the size of an elevator and only a little wider. The walls were painted white, and the floor was clean marble that had been polished to perfection. The wall opposite them had a door identical to the one that they just entered, steel and everything. In the middle of the room was a rectangular wooden table with two chairs; one on each side. Above the table was a single hanging light. Beyond that, there was nothing else in the room.

"Wow, this looks like an interrogation room!" Feliciano exclaimed, placing his hand on the wall. Dr. Jackson cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Please, Mr. Vargas, take a seat on the chair closer to the door."

He did as she said, leaning slightly on the table. Dr. Jackson didn't move to take the other seat; instead, she remained where she stood and began reading from her clipboard.

"Mr. Feliciano Vargas, you've been brought here today to undergo the monitored study of the Janus Project. I think you will know the supposedly hypothetical theory of there being more than one version of one person? Well, the theory has been proven true. However," Dr. Jackson said, as Feliciano looked dumbfounded, "it seems that at the current time, there is only a small group of alternate people that prove to be accessible. My colleagues and I were sent by the government to find the versions of the people that lived in our universe, match them up, and experiment on them."

Feliciano gaped. "E-experiment? You're not going to inject me, or anything, right?"

Dr. Jackson shook her head. "Oh, no, nothing like that. It's purely discussion, and injuries that might result are unplanned, and will never be caused by us scientists. Hopefully though, we can refrain from any kind of violence. Would you like me to tell you our procedure for this experiment?"

He nodded, and so she continued talking.

"First, as you have already done, we will have you enter into the Meeting Room and let the subject get comfortable. Then, we will bring in the alternate version of the subject—also referred to as the Variable. They will be situated just as the subject is, and then the two will participate in a conversation. As you can see, this room is heavily monitored with cameras, microphones, and room control, so if anything were to potentially go wrong, my fellow scientists and I would know in a second."

Feliciano looked up, and indeed, there were several small cameras spread across the room that he hadn't noticed before. If she hadn't pointed them out, he would have been entirely unaware.

"Excuse me, Miss Doctor, but what would we be talking about?"

"Anything that you'd like. All that we ask of you is to hold a conversation with the Variable and get to know them a bit. It won't take longer than a few hours; not even half a day. There's something...special about these Variables. It seems as there's been something odd in their evolution as humans or the developments to their brains. They have rather simple personalities with very few characteristic traits, and seem to have a very unpredictable pattern of reactions. Quite a few Variables are almost borderline mentally unstable. Our mission is to find out what differences can be found in the Variable and the more complex Control subject, and what similarities there might be." Dr. Jackson explained patiently. Her listener tilted his head.

"I see, so I'll meet another Feliciano today? That sounds exciting!" he said. "But isn't it mean to describe the Variable as simple? What if someone gets the wrong idea and thinks that you're saying that we're better than them or something? I wouldn't want anyone to get offended."

"Of course, we're not saying that our way is the better way, but simply that sometimes it is necessary to have a personality that isn't a compression of a very small amount of traits. In fact, research has shown that the Variable's personalities are merely a few of the most prominent traits of the Control exaggerated."

"That makes sense!" Feliciano said. "Thanks for explaining everything to me. It's really nice of you. How many other Controls and Variables are there? Will I ever get to meet them?"

"Well, there aren't that many Variables; out of the billions of people in the other universe, we only managed to gain contact with around one hundred. The amount of Controls is slightly less than that. Some of our potential subjects haven't accepted or declined our offer yet, which brings our Control number to the low nineties. However, the fact that we are paying our Controls does seem to help."

Dr. Jackson paused in her monologue to look at Feliciano, who was excited. He stared back at her, amber eyes wide with curiosity.

"Well then, do you think you're ready to meet your Variable?" Dr. Jackson asked.

"Of course! I can't wait!"' he replied, clapping his hands together. She gave him a small smile and lifted up the top of her clipboard and pulled out a small headset identical to the one she was wearing.

"This is a headset. Only the Control has one. Use it if you need to contact the scientists directly, whether if it's for a drink of water or help in controlling the Variable. There will always be someone on the other end. On the underside of the table on your end are some buttons; the red one is for emergency help, the green one for medical help, and the black one for a scientist. I think that's all you need to know, Mr. Vargas," She said, handing him the headset. He accepted it graciously and put it on.

"Thank you, but are you sure all the safety things are necessary? I mean, I'm sure that Feliciano and I will get along great!"

Dr. Jackson's smile turned slightly wry. "Yes, I hope so. I'll tell my colleagues to send over the Variable. He'll be here in less than five minutes. I'll see you in a few hours, Mr. Vargas."

She left the room from the door that they had come in from, leaving Feliciano to sit at the table. Dr. Jackson reached for her headset and turned it back on.

"Hello, Dr. Acosta? Jackson here. The Control is ready. You can send the Variable over. Have everybody else on standby at their assigned stations, and tell Maritime to stand near the main entrance and make sure that the Variable doesn't escape. Begin the Janus Project; subject, Feliciano Vargas."

* * *

 **I know, I know, I'm procrastinating on APSM. Sorry, but I really wanted to get this plot bunny out of my head.**

 **To clarify any potential misunderstandings; no, I'm not mocking people who like to characterize the Hetalians a certain way. Different interpretations of characters are awesome! However, I do think there's a line where a character can go from 'Valid and Logical Interpretation' to a character where the only similarity is the name and appearance. This is just meant to poke some light-hearted fun at some of the very far fetched interpretations.**

 **I hope you'll enjoy all the chapters of the story, and as always, reviews are welcome!**


	2. Feliciano Vargas, Italy

**FELICIANO VARGAS VARIABLE by DOCTOR SOPHIA ROSE JACKSON.**

 **Obsessed with someone named 'Doitsu'. Unable to find who this man is supposed to be, but the Variable has never stopped talking about him. From his words, I've gathered that he's an abusive lover of some sort.**

 **Unable to stop saying 'Ne' or 'Ve'. I'm unable to conclude what either of these words mean.**

 **Talks about pasta or other Italian food often.**

 **Seems to be a toddler stuck in the body of a grown man; over emotional, sleeps twenty hours a day, and eternally clueless.**

 **Vargas Variable Analysis: Not exactly dangerous, but highly irritating and could bring danger to himself and others with his sheer uselessness. For some strange reason that I'm unable to find a conclusion to, his eyes never open but he can still see. Highly indecent and seems to have the endurance of cotton wool.**

* * *

Feliciano sat at the table, humming to himself as he waited for his Variable to enter. Something in the very corner of his mind bothered him, but Feliciano had never been one to worry, and promptly ignored it. The doctor had gone on talking for so long; he had tuned her out for a bit of it. She hadn't said anything questionable, had she?

A minute or two passed, and then the door opposite Feliciano slid open. A man was thrown into the room and the door closed with a loud slam as soon as his feet touched the floor. Feliciano stood up and was just about to ask if the man was alright when he saw his face.

The man staring back at him was a near identical replica of him; his skin the same color, his hair parted the same—the only difference was the other man's eyes were closed. His Variable straightened up and walked over to the empty seat. Feliciano continued to observe the other man's face, amazed at seeing himself in person. The Variable's eyes remained closed; after a few minutes, Feliciano realized that he still hadn't introduced himself.

"Hello! I'm Feliciano Vargas," he said.

"Hello! I'm Feliciano Vargas, ve~! You can call me Feli! It's cute, _ne_? I'm so happy to be your friend!" His Variable replied, waving.

"It's nice to meet you too!" Feliciano said, offering his hand for a handshake. As soon as he moved, the other Feliciano burst into tears.

"DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! I SURRENDER! DON'T HURT ME! HELP! DOITSU, HELP ME!"

Feliciano jerked his hand back. "Uh, sorry. Are you okay?"

Feli ignored him and continued sobbing and screaming for mercy, flailing around in his seat. Feliciano gaped at the man, utterly bewildered.

"I won't hurt you, I promise! I just wanted to shake your hand," he said trying to pacify the crying man. Feli stopped crying in an almost inhuman speed; his expression switching from miserable to incredibly cheerful within the matter of seconds.

"Ve~ Sorry, Feliciano. You're nice! We should go eat pizza together!" Feli said cheerfully, his eyes still shut. "Or maybe spaghetti bolognese, or risotto, or ravioli, or maybe Matteo Renzi!"

Feliciano blinked. "What?"

"Ooh~ Then, let'sa eat-a some nice gelato! I like the apple kind! Then, let's go to Ve~nice and ride the gondolas! That's Amore~ Ah~ I wonder where Doitsu is doing right now?" Feli said, moving his hands around as he spoke. Feliciano couldn't tell if this was really his Variable, or if it was simply a man that the doctor had paid to make fun of Italians. He had an even less idea of who 'Doitsu' was. Before Feliciano had a chance to say anything else, Feli fell face forward onto the desk with a loud thud and stopped moving.

Feliciano made his way to Feli, panicking slightly. Did Feli have a heart attack? Was he _dead_? The other man didn't seem to be breathing; Feliciano reached out to check his pulse, wondering if he needed to contact the paramedics. However, as soon as his fingers brushed his wrist, Feli sat back up, looking as if nothing had happened.

"A-are you alright?" Feliciano asked, taken aback.

"Ve~ I was just taking a nice siesta! You should strip and join me, ve~"

"Uh, no thank you," Feliciano said, drawing back his hand yet again and wondering how much longer he had to be in a room with Feli. "You can still take a siesta by yourself though, I guess."

Feli gave him a wide smile and then climbed onto the table, "It's so nice to stretch on a cold surface~" he remarked, ignoring the wide-eyed stare of Feliciano. "I was telling Doitsu that, and then he hit me really hard on the face! He loves me so much, ve~"

"Are you crazy?" Feliciano asked, genuinely concerned about Feli's mental state. Between Feli's mindblowingly stupid words and his even odder habits, Feliciano was starting to regret agreeing to the experiment. Feli gave him a serene smile as he sat down on the table.

"Doitsu is so amazing, ne? He always yells at me, but he does it with love! I love his German wurst, ve~ It's almost as yummy as pasta~" he giggled, starting to unbutton his shirt. Feliciano, while usually not sensitive about naked bodies or stripping, felt like this was a good time to intervene as the Variable was currently exposing what was technically also _Feliciano's_ body.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Ve~ Sleeping naked is the best~"

"Eh? Not _here_!" Feliciano protested, frantically trying to stop Feli. He was never good under pressure, and Feli simply ignored him and continued stripping.

"Ve~, come on, Feliciano. Let's strip down and hug and eat pasta together~ Fun, ne?" Feli giggled, now sitting in his underwear. "Ve~, work is so boring~ There's no fun in being tired, ve~"

"What does that even mean?!" Feliciano asked, looking for some sort of clarity, "Why do you keep saying 've'? Please, Feli, stop stripping!"

Feli laid down, keeping what little clothing he had on and giggling quietly to himself. Feliciano's eyes were stinging with furious tears of desperation, but he wiped them away, still sniffling quietly. Seeing his Variable was like meeting an exaggerated version of himself; yes, Feliciano was quick to tears and emotional, but he was nothing like Feli. He was Italian, but it wasn't the only part of his personality. Was this really what some people would call a human? It seemed more like mockery of his person than anything.

Trying to catch his breath in the lull of Feli's periods of insanity, Feliciano inhaled and exhaled, relieved that now he could have some peace…

"GERMANY! GERMANY! IS A REALLY, REALLY ~NICE~ PLACE~" Feli sang, his voice screechy. Feliciano let out a cry of suprise at his sudden outburst; his Variable kept singing. "EVEN THOUGH I'M YOU'RE PRISONER YOU GIVE ME FOOO—"

"STOP! STOP _SINGING_!" Feliciano cried, running for the door that he had come in from. "Miss Doctor, let me out! I don't want to be stuck in a room with this weird, brainless version of me!"

Feli kept singing louder, still shut-eyed and oblivious anything else as Feliciano desperately tried to unlock the door.

…

"That went exactly like I thought it would."

Dr. Jackson looked up from the video screen at the voice and lowered the volume of her headpiece; from it, she could only hear bad singing and Feliciano's pleading. "Sorry, come again?"

Dr. Acosta grinned and took the seat next to her.

"I mean, I figured that the Control would react negatively to the Variable. Although, it does appear that both of the Felicianos seem to be sensitive," he mused, glancing over to her screen.

"Yes, but the Control is miles better than the Variable. His reactions were reasonable, while the Variable had severe, unexplainable mood swings. I've recorded the video and audio footage already, and Flint is writing up the rough report. Do you know who's going to collect the Variable?"

"I'm on it," Dr. Acosta said.

"Thank you. I'll wait until you're done and let Mr. Vargas out. We wouldn't want the Variable to escape; especially now that we've seen what a civilian's reaction to him would be." Dr. Jackson said, getting up from her chair and grabbing her clipboard. "I think you should be quick about it. Mr. Vargas seems to be mighty upset about still being with his Variable."

…

Feliciano was still yelling for a savior, or maybe a lockpick, when the door behind him opened with a metallic whoosh. A tall man with tanned skin and blond hair rushed into the room toward Feli. Feli, unaware what was going on, let out a cry of fright and sat up on the table, only to be pinned down by the scientist. Feli struggled for a few seconds; there was a small beeping sound and he stopped moving. The scientist sighed and muttered to himself before picking the unconscious, nearly-naked Feli up .

"Vargas, you'll have to wait a minute. Dr. Jackson will be here to get you out. Don't pick up the Variable's clothes."

With that, the man left, Feli still in his arms.

...

True to the blond scientist's word, Dr. Jackson unlocked Feliciano's door a few seconds after Feli had left.

"Are you alright?" she asked as Feliciano stepped out into the blissfully Variable-free room. Feliciano shook his head, his heart still racing.

"That wasn't...Wasn't fun," he said, stammering slightly. Dr. Jackson gave him a sympathetic look, but was unable to empathize.

"Well, I'm sorry. This is the only time you'll have to come here. Now, Mr. Vargas, could you sign these documents before you go? Legally, we need your signature on these to use the video footage and to pay you for coming in today."

"Ah...A form for secrecy?"

"Yes, well as this is a classified government project that's yet to the released to the public eye, you're going to have to agree to not speak a word of this to anybody. Only until the information is publicly available, of course," Dr. Jackson said patiently.

Feliciano stared at the paper in his hands. "But what would happen if I accidentally said something to someone?"

"Well, then, as the print says, you'd either be put in jail or fined a bail of a couple hundred thousand to a few millions," Dr Jackson replied, her tone pleasant but her words less than so. "Really, it's not so hard to keep a secret, Mr. Vargas. I hope you understand?"

Feliciano nodded, at a loss for words.

"Excellent. I'll give you a few more minutes to read through all the documents. Thank you again for coming in today."

...

"So, who's next?" Dr. Acosta asked Dr. Jackson. The dark-skinned woman's brows furrowed as she read over the list.

"The next appointment is for a man named Toris Laurinaitis. Is his Variable ready?"

"I'll check on him right away, Dr. Jackson."

"Perfect."

* * *

 **Hey guys, Bubble here! I hoped you enjoyed reading through this chapter. Are there any Feliciano Archetypes that I missed? (If I had a dollar for every tilde I used in this chapter…)**

 **Feel free to shoot me any characters you want to see in the near future. ;)**

 **As always, reviews are welcome!**


	3. Toris Laurinaitis, Lithuania

**TORIS** **LAURINAITIS VARIABLE by DOCTOR SOPHIA ROSE JACKSON.**

 **Appears to be decent (if a bit paranoid) at first. This was proven wrong, as it turns out that he's easily triggered by anything.**

 **Reluctant to meet new people or try new things.**

 **Goes into a state of shock easily.**

 **Spineless coward.**

 **Laurinaitis Variable Analysis: When calm, he comes across as a rational human being. However, he is rarely calm and is therefore rarely rational. Laurinaitis is easily frightened and very easily pushed around. He seems a bit manic, but quite different from the other Variables...He's perhaps closest to being a Control.**

* * *

"Hello. Please enter your first and last name."

The reached forward and entered his name into the touchscreen that had been installed in the lobby. No one else was in the room and the furnishing was minimal; a plastic plant in the corner, a few white leather seats, and a coffee table with a tissue box. He finished typing his name and pressed 'Enter'.

"Welcome, Toris Laurinaitis," A cool, computerized voice said. "Someone will be with you shortly. Please take your identification badge."

There was the sound of something printing and a small paper sticker the size of a credit card slid onto a small metal tray next to the touch screen. Toris stuck it onto his shirt and smoothed it out. He looked around the room with mild interest, but didn't have much time to investigate before he heard a door open. He turned his head and saw a woman standing in the doorway. She was of average height, with dark skin and short black hair that just reached her chin. In her right hand was a metal clipboard.

"Hello, Mr. Laurinaitis," she said, her tone professional. "I take it that _you_ read the email?"

Why she had stressed the 'you' he had no idea, but it didn't matter. "Yes, I have. Thank you for inviting me to take part in your experiment, Dr. Jackson."

Dr. Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Well, you really did read the email. Good for you. I take it you won't need me to explain anything to you then?"

"No, doctor. I think I understand," Toris replied. "Would I be heading to our meeting room now?"

"Well," Dr. Jackson said cautiously, "I think it would be best if you waited in here for a few minutes. Your variable is a bit high strung, and it's taking a while to convince him to come out. Could you take a seat again? I'll send someone to give you your earpiece."

"It's no problem, Dr. Jackson," Toris said mildly; she nodded her thanks, turned, and left.

A minute or so later, a girl with a long orange ponytail entered the room. She handed him his earpiece

"Thank you," Toris said, fixing it onto his ear. He couldn't hear anything on it now, but he assumed that it would be turned on once he entered the Meeting Room. The girl had one on her ear as well, and now that he thought about it, so did the doctor.

"Excuse me, but does everyone have one of these?" he asked. The ginger girl nodded.

"Almost everyone. We don't give these to the Variables, because this is used to contact the scientists for anything that the Control would need. If the Variable got a hold of one of these, they'd probably ask for something odd," the girl replied. "Speaking of which, would you like a pot of coffee? I heard it'll take some energy to make it through a meeting with a Variable. Not that I've met mine."

"Coffee sounds wonderful. Thank you," his eyes wandered to her name tag, "thank you, Dr. Song."

The girl smiled and shook her head. "Oh, I'm not a doctor. I'm a college intern. Just call me 'Lilian'."

"Alright. Then thank you, Lilian."

She smiled again; then there was a muffled crackling noise. Lilian tilted her head as if trying to listen to something that Toris couldn't hear, and then spoke.

"Mr. Laurinaitis, Dr. Jackson says that your Variable is ready and that she's coming to bring you to the Meeting Room. I'll be leaving now."

She got up and left just as Dr. Jackson reentered.

"Mr. Laurinaitis, you can come with me."

…

Toris stepped into the meeting room after a brief speech by Dr. Jackson. In the center of the table was a silver tray with a tea set, probably put there by the intern he had met earlier. There were two mugs; he took the white one and poured himself hot coffee, then mixed in two sugars and some cream. He took a sip as he waited for his Variable to arrive.

The door opened slowly, as if the person on the other end was hesitant to enter. Cautiously, Toris' Variable entered the room, walking to his seat in a tortoise pace as he looked around wildly. He finally sat down in his chair after five minutes.

He had the same mud brown as Toris, but for some reason it looked rather unkempt; his eyes were the same olive green, but they also had deep bags underneath. Toris thought that his Variable needed coffee far more than he did, and he poured him a cup. He offered it to him, but the Variable stared at it apprehensively.

"You didn't poison it, did you?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"What? Of course I didn't," Toris said, a bit bemused. "I'm drinking the exact same coffee you are."

His Variable took the cup, gave it a few sniffs, and took a small sip. He visibly relaxed after he realized that it truly wasn't poisoned.

"Thank you. I think you're Toris Laurinaitis just as I am, so you can call me Liet," his Variable said, hands clutched around his mug. He was far more pleasant than Toris had been expecting.

"Hello, then, Liet," Toris said. "I'm not sure how our conversation should start. Is there anything you'd like to know?"

"Well, why don't you start by telling me what's been going on in your day so far?" Liet suggested.

"Hm, I didn't do much. I woke up at around seven and went to the bakery near my house to buy something for breakfast. Then, I called Raivis and asked him about his recent vacation to the Alps. We ended up talking for longer than I expected, and that made me nearly late for the ten o'clock train. I did run down to the station there in time, and I rushed in—"

Liet let out a loud cry of fright, threw his coffee cup into the air, and then dashed under the table. The coffee from his mug splashed onto Toris' shirt and face. He looked under the table to see Liet hugging his knees to his chest, his body trembling.

Toris started to wipe the coffee off his person. "What's wro—"

" _Russians_!" Liet whimpered. "Not the _Russians_! Please, not Russia. Let me keep my food. Don't make Raivis any smaller. I don't want Ivan! Not Russia, not Russia, not Russia," he chanted. "Not _Russia_ , anything _but_ Russia, I want Natalia to save me, I want Iryna to save me, I want Raivis, I want Eduard, I want Natalia, I want Natalia to be a hero and save me, I want Alfred to save me…"

"Liet, I didn't say 'Russians'." Toris said, trying to calm him down. Liet looked up with a jump.

"Ivan!" Liet screamed, not registering that he was staring at what was essentially his own face. "I'm sorry Ivan, did you hear me? I didn't mean it! Please, don't hurt me!

"Liet, calm down," Toris said. "I'm not Ivan, and I'm not going to hurt you." He crouched on the floor next to the table and put a hand on Liet's shoulder. His Variable stared at Toris' hand and gave a sigh.

"Oh, alright then Ivan. What do you want me to call you?"

"What? I'm not Ivan."

"Yes, I know. What did you change your name to? Do you want me to sign the name change documents for you? Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Braginsky ? A back massage? I am your humble servant, sir."

Toris was thoroughly bemused, but still managed to keep his tone and approach rational.

"I'm sorry, Liet, but I'm neither Russian or Ivan."

Liet squinted at Toris' face for a few seconds, and then broke into nervous laughter. "Oh, right! You're Toris!"

"Yes, Liet. I'm Toris. Just like you."

Liet's brows furrowed, and he tilted his head. "...Like? Like?...Oh, Feliks! Sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you here to play chess? I'd love to play chess with you, but I'd rather not use the Polish Rule today—"

"Polish Rule?"

"Well, okay, if it makes you happy, we can use the Polish Rule today. Now, where's the chess board?"

Liet crawled out from under the table and looked around the near-empty room for the nonexistent chess board. Toris grabbed his arm.

"Listen, Liet, I'm not Feliks. It's me, Toris. T-O-R-I-S."

"Toris! I'm sorry for confusing you with someone else again. Please don't hurt me." Liet said, once again trembling. Toris stifled a groan and rubbed his temples; talking to Liet was like walking around in circles. When he was calm again, he spoke.

"I won't hurt you, I'm a pacifist," Toris said. "But really, are you alright? Do you need to lie down?"

Liet shook his head. "I'm alright, but I'll take a seat anyways. Why, Toris," he said, surprised, "you got coffee on yourself. Do you want me to clean it for you?"

"No, leave it there," Toris said, sitting down in his own chair as Liet did the same. "Liet, what makes you so jumpy?"

Liet blinked. "What do you mean by that? Do you want me to start jumping? I'll start right away—"

"Stay seated, please. What I mean was, why are you so paranoid? Did something happen? I think I can help you, Liet. I have experience in things like this," Toris asked, concerned.

Liet let out a shaky sigh. "Well, I think it all started when I was born…"

…

"...and then Natalia told me, 'We can't fit in any more turtles, Laurinaitis.' And that brings it all up to date, I think," Liet said, his gaze fixed on something that Toris couldn't see. He had been talking for the last two hours, and Toris had listened attentively the entire time, offering helpful words and advice.

"Well then. I think I have an idea of what you're talking about, Liet. There's been a lot of trauma in your life, but you never tried to help yourself, did you? You've only helped other people, and ignored yourself entirely."

"Yes," Liet whispered, jolting up. " _Yes_! You're right, Toris. That's what's been bothering me this entire time. It feels wonderful to talk about my problems. Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Toris said, smiling slightly. "If you'd like, I can give you a proper diagnosis—"

"Mr. Laurinaitis," his earpiece said. It was Dr. Jackson. "We're going to take the variable back in one minute."

"Really? Now?" Toris said, surprised. "Well, alright then."

The door behind Liet opened, and a blond scientist entered the room.

"Laurinaitis Variable, you're going to have to come with me," he said, rolling up his sleeves.

"Please, Dr. Acosta, there's no need to stun me this time," Liet said pleasantly, walking past the man into the room behind him. The doctor looked from him to Toris and back again, his mouth agape.

"I—You two—You two didn't _switch_ , did you?" he asked. Toris shook his head and shrugged nonchalantly. The doctor continued to look dumbfounded as he followed Liet out of the room.

…

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Laurinaitis."

Toris looked up from the documents to see Dr. Jackson. "Hm?"

"You somehow managed to fix a Variable. One of my colleagues reported that your Variable is starting to act more like a Control now; he has more rational thoughts and a calmer personality. This is the only time I've ever seen anything like this happen."

"I only talked to him. I don't think it would have happened if it had been anyone else's Variable, but I think I understood him better than anyone else could, simply because he was me.

Dr. Jackson nodded. "I see. Thank you again for coming in today and taking part in our experiment. Your involvement certainly has—"

Her headset crackled. "Incoming Call," a computerized voice said.

"Sorry, Mr. Laurinaitis, I have to take a call. When you're done, you can go ahead and give the forms to Lilian."

She walked away from Toris, opened the door, and entered the empty hallway.

"Hello, Dr. Sophia Jackson here. Yes, I _do_ have you scheduled for tomorrow at two. Is that time still alright? Perfect. I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Mr. Williams."

The call ended with a click.

* * *

 **I can't believe it. Three chapters in three days? Don't get used to this; I'm normally as slow** a **s a sloth.**

 **Originally, this was probably going to end with Toris panicking or something, but then I realized: This is Toris! He's always dealing with everyone else's problems; the other two Baltics, Feliks, Ivan and his sisters, Alfred, and God knows who else. He's probably a really good counselor by now. Thus, we have Toris changing Liet's life for the better! Yay!**

 **Thanks to everyone who's followed, favorited or reviewed. A special thank you goes out to Krasavista for offering some tips on writing Liet. Another thank you to Marzue, who has been a wonderful guest reviewer. I liked your idea for Matthew, so he's going to be experimented on next!**

 **As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, and feel free to suggest any characters you want to see! I don't publish these in any particular order. ;)**

 **-Bubble**


	4. Matthew Williams, Canada

**MATTHEW WILLIAMS VARIABLE by Doctor Sophia Rose Jackson.**

 **...Who are we talking about, again?**

 **Oh right. Matthew.**

 **He's an odd one. Impossible to keep track of, hard to find, and seems to suffer from mood swings. One second he's polite and quiet, and the next he's fighting with everyone about everything.**

 **I can't tell if he hates or loves 'Alfred.' It sounds like a one sided rivalry of some kind.**

* * *

Matthew wondered if this entire project was some kind of hoax.

He had already arrived at the building where the so-called experiment would take place, he had been led into a small, white-walled room by a nice ginger intern, and the door opposite the one he had entered had opened and closed just as the doctor had said.

Only, there was no 'Variable'. Just Matthew, a table, and two metal folding chairs. To be fair, he hadn't waited long. At most, ten minutes had passed. However, the entire idea of it sounded a bit silly to Matthew: an alternate version of himself? It would be best to wait it out and see what happened, Matthew thought. He pulled out a chair with some difficulty (was it stuck or something?), and sat down.

The problem was that someone else was already sitting in it.

Jumping up with an exclamation of surprise, Matthew turned around to see that the chair was...empty, just as he thought. That was odd.

"Hey! Why'd you sit on me, eh?"

Matthew drew back away from the chair, backing into the table. There was no one around him as far as he could see.

"Uh...Is that one of the doctors talking?" Matthew asked, glancing up. The earpiece crackled.

"No, that's not one of us," Doctor Jackson replied. "Why isn't your Variable in the room with you yet?"

Matthew hesitated. "I'm not sure. I don't see anyone else in here."

The chair scraped against the white marble and he heard feet scuff the floor. Then Matthew felt someone poke him roughly on the shoulder.

"What are you getting at, eh? Am I not cool enough for you to notice? Maple, you're just like Alfred. That...that _goshdarn butthole_."

The faint figure of a man appeared. He was scowling slightly, but flickered away before Matthew could get a clear look at him. Was Matthew hallucinating?

"Er...Hello?"

"You're darn right, hello! I wait in a room for minutes and this is what I get? I'm _never_ included," the man whined. His image flickered again.

Matthew took a step closer to where he had seen the man. "Erm, I'm sorry, but I can't really see you." He heard a groan.

"Oh, I see. Was my _superstar miracle golden child_ brother Alfred blinding you with his flash? I'm _never_ noticed. It's always Alfred _this,_ Alfred _that._ Matthieu, Alfred can carry a live bison uphill in the rain while on fire. Matthieu, Alfred has a sports car. _Two_ sports cars! And now people are pretending to _not see me_?" The man whined, thumping Matthew lightly on the shoulder. Matthew was beyond confused at this point. Who was Matthieu and why was he invisible? Matthew also knew an Alfred, but the Alfred he knew was an eccentric dork.

"It's not that I'm actively trying to ignore you...er, Matthieu, was it? It's just that I literally can't see you," Matthew said.

There was a fairly pregnant pause.

"Oh...I-I'm so sorry, mister! Please, take a seat, eh? I wonder if we could get some Jim Mortons or bagged milk. Maybe some nice buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup™ to share…" Matthieu wondered quietly. "My gosh, it's sure been awhile since I've seen someone who looked so much like my twin and wasn't my best and closest brother Alfred! He's a really nice guy. Cheerful, and he always perks me up when I'm down." His image flickered as he gushed his admiration for Alfred, but this time it stayed visible, if slightly hard to follow. He had fluffy light blond hair and slightly droopy violet eyes, just like Matthew. So this would be the Variable?

Cautiously, Matthew took a seat and observed Matthieu. The man was a lot nicer when he was visible.

"So you're Matthieu? With the French pronunciation? I'm Matthew." Matthew asked, propping his elbow on the table. Matthieu nodded bashfully.

" _Oui_. _Mon pere_ named me that. He was such an amazing father," Matthieu swooned, adjusting his oval wire glasses. "After he left, all I could do was spear wild salmon and trap polar bears. Speaking of which…"

Matthieu reached into the pocket of his thick beige fur coat (wasn't it a bit too warm to wear anything like that?) and pulled out a fully grown live polar bear.

Even if he was a lover of animals and a pretty big polar bear fan himself, Matthew reacted like any sane human being would and dove under the desk.

"Er—how you have a live polar bear in your pocket? And _oh God_ , is it vaccinated? It's not _diseased_ , is it? This isn't humane, Matthieu. _Where did you get that polar bear and how did you fit it into your pocket?_ " Matthew cried, covering his head as he saw the stubby clawed feet of the polar bear flail around from under the desk. "And how are you carrying an adult polar bear? They're 2,000 pounds!"

Matthieu set the polar bear down and peered under the desk. His previously passive face now looked irritated.

"Oh, I see. So _Alfred_ can own a _fricking blue whale_ , but I can't even have an animal that's actually important and suited to my country, eh? I knew it! You're just like all those people that love Alfred more than me! You should know aboot everything that I do better than he does—"

"Does Alfred carry his blue whale around in his pocket and defy logic?"

"—I can play the cello _. Can Alfred play the cello_? No, he can't. I BEAT HIM AT ICE HOCKEY EVERY TIME WE PLAY. Kumanopico is so much better than that dumb butt old whale. _Mon dieu, un_ _sac à dos et toi avec deux tres baguette!_ _C'est moi, n'est pas Alfred! J'aime un Musee d'Orsay dans la rue!_ " Matthieu spouted, furiously upending the table. Matthew covered his head with his arms.

"Excuse me, but I'm not entirely sure your French is correct." Matthew said. "I'm sorry, but your words weren't very close."

Matthieu gave Matthew a hurt look and took a step back.

"Well, pardon my French, Monsieur, but there's no need to be so snippy," Matthieu whimpered. He hugged himself and kept his gaze on the ground. "I...I really wish my big brother Alfred was here with me right now. He always kept the bullies away from me."

"You were just going on about how much you hated him, weren't you?. I think that your personality is actually pretty inconsistent. Is his really what my Variable is like?" Matthew muttered. "I didn't know I would be so hurt about not being noticed. I actually prefer the quiet life, you know."

Matthew stood up and made to straighten the table back up, but stopped when he saw his Variable's sardonic smile.

"Oh my Maple, so you think that you know everything about me now, eh? Well, I'm not going to live in anyone's shadow anymore!"

"What are you talking abo—"

Matthieu looked up to the ceiling and raised his arms. He let out a deafening screech.

"KUKAMBEAR, ATTACK!"

The polar bear looked up from where he was gnawing on the metal chairs and growled at Matthew. The man paled and backed slowly toward the door.

"Good bear...I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me. Don't attack me. And _please_ be vaccinated."

Kugelmugel snarled and dove at Matthew, who quickly ran toward the door and pressed the button on his earpiece.

"Let me out!" Matthew yelled. "I'm going to be mauled alive!"

The door opened with a woosh and a hand dragged him out of the room.

* * *

"Well, Mr. Williams, what are you thoughts on our experiment?"

Doctor Jackson had her metal clipboard with her as always, a silver ballpoint pen in her hand. Matthew winced and rubbed his arm where she'd grabbed him.

"Sorry, but I can't say that I'm all that fond of it. I'm sure that my Variable was just a special exception, right?"

"No, we've gotten that feedback from everyone so far. Your Variables is actually one of the better ones. You should see the Kirkland Variable," Doctor Jackson said, writing on her clipboard. "Now, the polar bear didn't hurt you, did it? We have no idea how he managed to sneak the bear in, but we _will_ be inspecting the jacket and how he managed to fit that in there. We'll have to replace the chairs too..."

"He didn't get me, no," Matthew said. The doctor gave him a slightly forced smile and rushed him toward the exit.

"That's good. Now, I'll have our intern escort you out. We _do_ have more Controls coming in after you. Have a good day, Mr. Williams!"

* * *

 **I felt really bad because I hadn't updated in a while because I was in France for a couple of weeks. I hope this chapter was alright. I'll admit that I'm not very good at writing Matthew. I only got the inspiration to write this after I read a fic that had Matthew constantly switch between beating up Alfred and then crying on his shoulder. Talk about confusing, eh?**

 **Thanks to Marzue the anon for the suggestion of Matthew. I'm sorry if I didn't do him justice!**

 **-Bubble**


	5. Kiku Honda, Japan

**KIKU HONDA VARIABLE by DOCTOR SOPHIA ROSE JACKSON**

 **He's polite, that's for sure, but he does somehow peacefully force other people to read his stories and admire his...er, 'ships', I think they were called. Maybe a fan of boating? We've usually left before he could actually start on the subject, so I'm not entirely sure how serious this obsession is.**

 **He likes mixing in basic Japanese in with other languages. It's an odd habit, but other Variables have worse ones.**

 **Honda Variable Analysis: All in all, he could be worse. He doesn't talk that much to us, and we haven't tested much on him either. I hope he isn't too bad.**

* * *

It was already six past eleven when Kiku finally arrived to the building, his arms ladened with paper shopping bags. He was breathing heavy, having been forced to rush because of his stop at the bookstore. As he walked into the lobby, Kiku concentrated on steadying his breath.

At the front desk were two women discussing something in hushed voices. The taller one of them looked slightly peeved and was clutching a large metal clipboard; the shorter one was typing away on a small white laptop. They both turned as Kiku walked into the room.

"Excuse me. are you Mr. Kiku Honda?" The laptop girl asked. "Oh, I was just about to message you—"

"We thought you forgot about your appointment, Mr. Honda," The other woman said, sounding slightly ticked off. She eyed the bags he was holding. "Did you need to pick something up?"

Kiku bowed slightly and gave her an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry. I walked here, and the route from my hotel to this building has a general store along the way. I'm not excusing my actions, Doctor, and I'm very sorry."

The clipboard woman looked over Kiku appraisingly, then sighed. "It's alright. I'm Dr. Jackson, the lead scientist in this experiment, and this is our intern Lilian Song. You know, you're lucky that your Variable is the patient type, Mr. Honda. Most Variables don't take well to lateness." Dr. Jackson turned to the intern. "Song, go ahead and take Mr. Honda to the meeting room."

"Yes, doctor," Lilian said, getting up from her chair. "Right this way, Mr. Honda."

As they walked, Lilian briefed him on his Variable. "Now, I've personally never met your Variable, but I've read Dr. Jackson's report on him and I think he's a very strong believer in etiquette. Because you were late, I think you should apologize to him the first thing you do. It's just polite, you know? I guess it's a good thing that your Variable isn't violent like some other Variables we have...Oh look! We're here. Here's your earpiece, Mr. Honda," Lilian said, handing a small plastic bag to Kiku. Kiku was about to open it when Lilian leaned over and snatched it back. "On second thought, I should put it on for you. Your arms and hands seen to be occupied already."

The girl quickly slipped the earpiece onto Kiku's ear, then turned to the metal door in front of them. She typed in a series of numbers into a keypad.

The door opened with a slight _whoosh_ and Kiku was pushed rather unceremoniously into the room. He turned to question Lilian, but as quickly as it had opened, the door closed again.

"Why, _konnichiwa,"_ a man said.

Kiku spun around and saw the speaker sitting at a gleaming new metal table, a cylindrical teacup in his hands. He had emotionless grey eyes that looked over Kiku politely, and inky black hair with bangs that ended a centimeter above his eyes. It was rather like staring back into a mirror. That man had an air of quietness and calm, and Kiku couldn't help but feel peaceful. The man smiled and ran his hand over the surface of the table.

"What a nice table this is. Much better than the old one they had," the man continued serenely as Kiku took a seat. "This one is nice and sturdy. I think Williams-san broke it the other day."

"Oh, that's such a shame," Kiku said, not entirely sure who 'Williams-san' was. For some reason, the other man's close-mouthed smile grew wider. He reached for the teapot that was sitting in the middle of the table and poured Kiku a cup.

"Would you rike some tea? It's Kombucha seaweed tea. I asked for it from the ginger girl and she gave me some. It's welcoming tea, for guests," the man said, handing Kiku the cup. Kiku took a small sip of it to be polite. The taste was familiar: salty, hot, and smelled of the ocean. Before he finished the cup, he remembered his manners.

"Thank you very much, sir, and I'm sorry for being late to the meeting," Kiku said.

"It's not a probrem. _Watashi wa_ Kiku Honda-san. And what is your name?"

Kiku frowned slightly. This was the first time he had ever heard anyone use Japanese honorifics while speaking in English, but he guessed that Kiku-san was just used to it. That was fine. It wasn't his business to pry around in other people's choices, after all.

"My name is Kiku as well. Kiku Honda," Kiku replied, then added: "You don't need to use an honorific for my name if you're speaking in English, and you can just call me Kiku."

"Arright, nice to meet you," Honda-san said politely. He set his tea down.

"It's nice to meet you as well," Kiku said, taking another sip of the tea. There was a long pause in the conversation that neither of the Hondas had the urge to interrupt; Kiku finished his tea and Honda-san poured them both another cup. Kiku drank as he quietly waited for the other man to start talking before he did.

"Werr," Honda-san finally said, straightening in his chair. "I couldn't help but notice that you brought in some bags. Would it be arright if I saw what was in them?"

"Er," Kiku hesitated, not wanting to refuse the man. "Yes, it's alright. Please give me a second to get everything out."

As Kiku carefully laid out the contents of the bag onto the table, he couldn't help but to feel like Honda-san was staring at him. When he looked up, however, Honda-san's grey eyes were focused on the teapot.

"Here you are, Honda-san," Kiku said, finally setting the bag down on the floor. He had purchased a limited edition of his favorite novel, ink pens, a thick notepad, and some miscellaneous snacks. To be honest, it wasn't the most interesting shopping trip that Kiku had gone on as he had been pressed with time, but Honda-san looked at them like they were gold-plated treasures.

"Amazing," Honda-san said, picking up the book and reading the back cover. It was dark blue, with the title ' _Akane Smith: Cyberspace Heist!_ ' printed in bold cyan letters. "I've read this book before. It's one of my favorites."

"Oh, mine too. I like it because of the murder mystery at the end, and because the illustrations are really well done. Why do you like it?" Kiku asked as Honda-san ran his hand up the spine of the book.

"I rike it because of Katsuo—"

"He's my favorite character as well!"

"—and Hideki. What an amazing yaoi couple. You know, they remind me of my friends, Igirisu and Doitsu. Katsuo is easiry annoyed just rike Igirisu, and Hideki is buff rike Doitsu," Honda-san said. Kiku blinked. That was odd; as far as he remembered, Hideki and Katsuo had had only around 6 lines of interaction. Oh well, it was Honda-san's personal taste...But who exactly were Igirisu and Doitsu?

"I see," Kiku said, deciding to not question Honda-san. "What's your favorite part of the story? I liked Chapter 17, where Akane Smith kills Mi-O after she found out that Mi-O was an android."

Honda-san looked more or less neutral with Kiku's opinion. "I guess that part was arright. _My_ favorite part was when Hideki and Katsuo went on that date to the tea shop. I riked it because Igirisu rikes tea, so he and Doitsu wirr maybe go on a date to a tea shop someday."

"Er, I-I see," Kiku hesitated, wondering what was with Honda-san's odd obsession with 'Igirisu' and 'Doitsu' was. "I don't think that happened in the book—"

"I've arready written a fanfiction about Igirisu and Doitsu going on the date and everything that's going to happen," Honda-san said. Kiku saw a strange, slightly unnerving glimmer in the other man's previously lifeless grey eyes as Honda-san pulled out a thick wad of folded paper from the pocket of his jacket.

"It's alright, Honda-san, you don't have to—"

"' _My name is Igirisu-kun, and recently, I finarry asked out the rabu of my rife, Doitsu-senpai. He's tall, with rippring muscles and nice skin. For our date, I decided to wear a purple corset and a fake reather skirt. He picked me up in his pink car and we sang 'World is Yours' by Matsune Hiku together_ ," Honda-san read, visibly getting more and more excited. " _I granced into his seafoam brue eyes. I wish that we could arways be together rike this._ "

"Er, Honda-san," Kiku interjected awkwardly. "I'm sure that we could do some other things besides reading your story—not that it isn't good! I just think that maybe the scientists would want us to do something else."

Honda-san put down the manuscript somewhat dejectedly, but didn't protest."I suppose we could do something else. Do you mind if I borrow your pen and paper?"

"Not at all."

Honda-san uncapped the pen and flipped to the first unused page of the notebook. He started writing down something; before Kiku could see if it was another story, Honda-san started to sketch down a diagram. Kiku sighed internally. That hopefully meant that it probably wasn't another story.

"Kiku-san, I have something to show you," Honda-san said, handing the written-over notepad to Kiku. Kiku took it apprehensively.

"It's a plan to get Igirisu and Doitsu together. The first thing we have to do is rock them in a closet together. Then, we put in a camera and make sure they fall in rabu with each other. I will sneak in a box of pocky so they play the pocky game! We have to make sure that Fericiano is out of the way. I think that maybe if we put Igirisu in a kawaii neko maid uniform, Doitsu wirr fall in rabu with him faster. Sugoi plan, ne?"

"Erm," Kiku said, now wondering if it would be a good idea to politely run away. "It's...It's a plan."

"It's good, ne? I think that they're a kawaii couple, so we must get them together. This is a masterplan that's sure to make them a perfect match," Honda-san cooed lovingly, fondling the paper.

"I-I...I disagree, Honda-san. I'm not entirely sure who they are, so I'd like it if you left me out of your scheme. Not that it's bad, of course—"

"You can't disrespect the shipping, Kiku-san!" Honda-san cried, standing up very suddenly, causing the teapot to fall over.

"I'm not! It's a wonderful ship!" Kiku said, though not entirely sure what Honda-san's definition of a ship was. At this point, Kiku was more concerned with leaving as soon as possible.

"Then help me get them together, Kiku-san! They're perfect."

"No, I can't. I just...I have to go home now," Kiku babbled, losing his composure as he hurriedly swept all his belongings into his bag. "It was nice meeting you, Honda-san."

He hitched the bag around his shoulder and tried his best to walk— _not run_ —toward the door. Kiku hoped that the scientists were watching him on the camera and knew what he wanted them to do; they did, and the door opened. Kiku gave Honda-san one final glance. The odd man was focused intently on the manuscript he had been reading from earlier, and didn't give Kiku another glance.

* * *

Kiku walked out of the building and down the steps, glad to finally be free of the other Kiku Honda. When he had told Dr. Jackson this, she had laughed and simply told him that his Variable was _definitely_ not the worse she'd seen.

Worse or not, Honda-san had been mildly irritating and not someone Kiku preferred to spend his time with despite his peaceful demeanor at first. How could someone so calm-looking have such an odd interior?

The October nighttime air was chilly, but thankfully windless. As the the fireflies came out and the sky grew dark during his walk home, Kiku took out his notepad. He opened the book to the first page.

On the white paper was Honda-san's writing; Kiku realized that Honda-san had written entirely in Hiragana. He turned the page and found himself face to page with a rather explicit drawing of two men. One of them was small and had an angry looking face, and the other one was buff.

Kiku ripped the pages out and threw them into the recycling bin, then continued on this way home.

* * *

Dr. Acosta swept loose tea leaves into a wastebin as Lilian Song picked up the tea cups.

"Who gave tea to the Variable?" Dr. Acosta asked, slightly peeved. Someone had knocked over one the teapot and spilled leaves and tea all over the brand new table.

"Me. I hope you don't mind, doctor, but I didn't think any harm would come from it, and I was right, wasn't I?" Lilian asked. "And the table's metal. It won't get moldy."

"I guess. Still, be careful who you give drinks to. It'd be better if you just asked the Control what they'd want to drink, like you did with Laurinaitis—"

"Speaking of Laurinaitis," Dr. Jackson interrupted, stepping into the room from the Variable's side. "He's still unconscious. I don't think that him trying to quell a fight between Arlovskaya and Braginsky was a good idea, but it's a good thing that he's not the kicked puppy he used to be."

"Right. On the topic of Braginsky, is he ready for his meeting next week? He's supposed to be next," Dr. Acosta said. Dr. Jackson grimaced.

"Well, I'm sure _he's_ ready. I'm not sure that any of _us_ are,"

"Have you called the Control yet?"

"Not yet. Lilian?" Dr. Jackson said, glancing over to the girl. Lilian looked up. "Please call Mr. Ivan Braginsky. As I understand, he's in St. Petersburg right now. Can you have him schedule a meeting for some time next week?"

"Of course, Dr. Jackson."

* * *

 **As I was doing 'research' (read: reading Hetalia fics) for this chapter, I realized that Kiku is usually portrayed as a pretty bland character, usually just there to either get the author's OTP together or to introduce the reader to the world of anime. I think I've read several fics that go something like "What will happen when Feliciano and Ivan stumble upon Kiku's smutty Italy x Russia fanfiction?"**

 **I'm pretty sure that Honda-san's Doitsu x Igirisu fanfic was ripped right out of My Immortal, and no, '** _ **Akane Smith: Cyberspace Heist!**_ ' **is not a real book.**

 **Marzue- I** _ **know**_ **French. I'm not sure I'd call myself fluent, but I have taken classes for around five years? I didn't use Google Translate, just a bunch of random French words.**

 **Thanks to Krasavista for suggesting Ivan for the next chapter!**

 **-Bubble**


End file.
